


Red

by BreakItDwn



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Dark fic, Drabble, Gore, I really did, I swear i wanted to make this smut, Torture, but i am weeeeeak, maybe next time though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-06
Updated: 2014-10-06
Packaged: 2018-02-20 01:58:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2410763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BreakItDwn/pseuds/BreakItDwn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Rodimus, everything here is doused in manic shades of red.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red

**Author's Note:**

> Did this for stuff on tumblr. c:

Here, in that precarious state of mind where fictitious ideations crafted to protect a dissolving processor collided with reality in a spectacular surge of tortured shrieks from a spent vocalizer, the world was a red one. It was a blank canvas spattered carelessly with vivid specks of red and all the variants thereof. Rodimus could tell, even as was, that Tarn enjoyed the sight. He could tell the way those frigid optics widened with glee, the rouge sclera brightening with sudden charge and casting a haunting, ethereal glow over the entirety of that weathered mask whenever he broke just a fraction of a bit more. The purple, deceptive in its gentle and welcoming hue, blending in sinister matrimony with the red light.  
He knew. Oh he knew, and he was repulsed. Every fiber of his being was repulsed by that gem of knowledge buried beneath tumultuous, insensible thoughts that whirred like miniature rust storms across the decimated plain of Rodimus’s mind.   
“How are you doing today, my Autobot?” Rodimus learned long ago to squelch down the flinch of innate fear that arose whenever that behemoth loomed over him. His reputation was reason enough to flinch by, but the sheer multitude of Tarns hulking frame drove a sharp sliver of fear into his sputtering spark. It was terrifying.  
Beneath the mask, Tarn clucked his glossa against the roof of his mouth in admonishment and this time, Rodimus squirmed in his bonds. Sharp metal bindings that held his shredded servos aloft, above his helm(of which, was equally as shredded, no longer a lively orange but instead the gut churning color of falling ash from the skies of a burning land, long long ago in history) dug into Rodimus’s wrists as he squirmed, whimpering as best he could in horrid fear of what was coming. He’d been an ‘esteemed guest’ of the Djd long enough to know what generally followed his failure to reply.  
“How rude, Rodimus.” Tarn drawled, that low pitched baritone dripping feigned offense. “I only asked how you were this early cycle, it is quite an easy question, I think. Not too strenuous for your overworked processor, Vos heeded me about that, you know. Not to push your” He poked the side of Rodimus’s forehelm with enough force to bob his quaking head. “little brain module past what it could accept, given the circumstances. “  
A hand, cool metal a teasing contrast from the fire burning pathways of agony through his straining joints, trailed a feather-light path down Rodimus’s cheek, pausing at the gaping wound that sat there to appreciate the fine handiwork of pinpointed laser blast to the face. “I have been doing so good with that, wouldn’t you say?”   
Rodimus shivered again as the textured finger pads remained where they had come to rest. He had near forgotten about that wound, the phantom pain melding together with the sheer amounts of other lesions, lacerations and gashes decorating his grayed armor like the universes least desirable set of jewelry to ever don a cybertronian frame. Except, instead of shimmering, alien rocks that glinted a variety of enticing colors and ornate metal bindings to hold said minerals from far away spots of life, the excessively frayed metal wept rich lavender liquid that appeared near black in the engulfing din. It bled and seeped onto the chilled tiling beneath Rodimus’s chaffed knee caps and mixed together with the red.  
As did everything else here.   
“And yet you deny me, Rodimus. Every kindness I have deigned to give you, though I shouldn’t you know, you’ve turned right around and spat in my face. Disrespected me.” The fingers dug into the open metal, drawing out a heady flow of fresh energon as comparatively substantial objects gouged the wound further. Tarns voice reeked of anger, unbridled fury lying beneath that otherwise mellowed voice, as luminescent fluid coated his hands, enhancing the purple of his intimidating armor in possibly the most intimidating way Rodimus had ever been witness to. However, he couldn’t much note anything beyond the fresh rush of pain attacking his sensory array and pained shrieks clawing their way from his vocalizer.   
They filtered through the silent room in a cacophonous orchestra of perpetual agony and, through the wave of injury that drowned his senses, he could’ve sworn Tarn smiled.   
//“But we’ll fix that, won’t we, Rodimus Prime?”//  
-oO0Oo-


End file.
